Harlequin
by Kagirinai-Eternal
Summary: MiM chooses Fred to be a spirit and names him the April Fool and the Prince of Pranks. It seems a fairly easy job, but when those from his past life are threatened by foes from his new one, he has to push the boundaries between realms and protect his family. Please Review.
1. PROLOGUE

_**Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Rise of the Guardians. But does anyone else ever wonder if the various owners are out there reading all these fanfictions?**_

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Fred opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the bright glow of moonlight that seeped between the cracks of his eyelids. His head felt dizzyingly light and the world swayed dangerously as it gradually came into focus. Surprise struck him as it did; he was home, at the Burrow. He could have sworn he was at Hogwarts, fighting You-Know-Who's army of uglies. The details of the battle were fuzzy, easily escaping his sluggish mind, but if he was home then surely they won. Must have gotten himself knocked out, though he didn't understand why they'd left him outside.

"Fred."

He turned at the voice, smiling and rising to his feet as his twin approached. "Hiya, Georgie. Miss me?"

For some reason, George did not answer. He didn't even look at him. He just kept walking, stopping by a small rock. He looked up at the moon, his face serious. Not just serious; solemn. Fred found that somewhat disconcerting. Even in the worst of it, he and George had taken everything with a smile and a joke. "George?"

Still George did not acknowledge him, continuing to stare up into the night sky. He sighed, rubbing his neck, and his gaze dropped to the rock before snapping back to the moon. "Happy birthday, Fred."

"What? It's not our birthday." At least, he didn't think it was. But there was no telling how long he'd been unconscious. The weather did seem warmer. He stepped up beside his brother, reaching out to grab his shoulder. "George, are you-" He froze as his hand passed through his twin, staring at his fingers in disbelief. Once more he grabbed and once more he went through flesh unnoticed. "George, this isn't funny. Look at me."

George turned around then, and Fred felt his heart lift. It was just a joke after all. Just as quickly, it crashed back down to his toes as George looked back at the little rock one more time. "We miss you, Fred."

"I'm right here!" Fred moved in front of his twin, backpedalling and waving his arms frantically. "Right in front of you. _LOOK_ AT ME!" He stopped, raising his hands to halt his brother. Instead, George walked through him, leaving a cold pain that started in his stomach and radiated out through his body. It was worse than walking through a ghost. "George?" he questioned weakly, watching his brother's retreating back.

"He can't see you. He doesn't believe."

Fred whirled around, finding the speaker with a mix of apprehension and desperation. His eyes lighted on a skinny kid leaning on a staff, looking at him sadly. He looked to be about Ron's age, though his hair was as white as an old man's. "You can see me?" The teen nodded, face screwing into an expression that was somewhere between pain and sympathy. It made him look like he'd swallowed something sour and unpleasant. "Who're you?"

"I'm Jack. I'm a spirit…like you."

"A what?" A tendril of fear snaked over Fred and he hoped he'd misheard.

"Spirit."

Nope. His hearing was fine. "A _spirit_? Are you saying I'm a ghost?"

Jack shook his head, pale hair flopping with the motion. "More so than most spirits, but no. Ghosts are dead. Forever. Spirits are technically still living. Or, like you and me, resurrected and given new life."

Fred sputtered and took a step backwards, as if he could exit the space the words had occupied and they'd cease to exist. "I'm not dead," he protested. "I can't be. I'm right here."

"Only to spirits and believers. You died at the castle, Fred. Three months ago."

Fred shook his head, refusing to believe. He couldn't be dead. He didn't feel any different than he had before, and he was certain dying would have had some effect on him. Especially if he were killed in combat. "You're lying," he spat at the so-called spirit, turning on his heel. He broke into a frantic run, eyes on the Burrow. He wasn't dead. George was playing some sort of joke, but somebody would acknowledge him. Mum or Ron or Ginny. Somebody.

_Anybody_.

He vaulted over the low stone wall into the garden, looking around for anyone, spotting two figures sitting in the shadows. He moved towards them, surprised to find Ron wrapped up in Hermione's arms, his head on her shoulder. There was none of the awkward scrambling to pretend nothing was happening as he approached. "Finally caught on that we all know you two fancy each other, have you?"

He got no response, so he moved closer, noticing that the pair looked very sad. Hermione's fingers were working through Ron's hair soothingly and his youngest brother's hands were closed around a small box tied up with a ribbon. "I got it for him when I was trying to catch up with you and Harry. Went hungry a few days, too." Fred couldn't help a small smile; for Ron, that was a tremendous sacrifice. "Tried giving it to George, but he said he didn't want it. He hasn't been himself lately. George, I mean." Hermione nodded, shifting to squeeze Ron in an embrace.

Fred felt fairly awkward standing there, clearly not noticed. A heavy dread settled in his chest, his head starting to come to terms with the fact that Jack had been speaking the truth. He really was dead. Acceptance hit him like a Bludger and he sat next to the young couple, flinching as his arm passed through Ron's. He stared ahead dumbly, only moving when the pair rose and moved into the house. He watched them go, his gaze dropping to the bench once they were gone. The little box sat abandoned.

"You might as well take it. It's technically yours."

He grabbed the box uncertainly, glancing up. Jack was perched on the roof of the Burrow, knees tucked to his chest. Fred hadn't heard him approach or climb onto the roof, but then again, he _was_ a spirit. Going unnoticed was part of the gig, right?

"Why me?" he questioned softly.

"MiM saw something special in you," the spirit answered, gesturing at the moon. "Normally he just picks you, gives you a name, and leaves you to fend for yourself." This was said with some bitterness in his tone, though Jack's face remained expressionless.

"Then why are you here?"

"Uh…regime change. Sorta." Jack shoved a pale hand in the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out a scroll of parchment. Unrolling it, he floated down to earth, coming to stand in front of Fred. "If you laugh," he warned, "I'll freeze you until the next century." Frost curled across the ground, backing his threat and he glared suspiciously for a minute before beginning to read.

"'Frederick Helquinus Weasley, hereon to be named 'Harlequin', is charged by Tsar Lunar, elsewise known as The Man in the Moon, to spread joy amongst the children of the world in a matter fitting his new station as the April Fool and a spirit of mischief. Upon acceptance of this appointment, the above mentioned Frederick Helquinus Weasley swears to complete this task to the best of his ability for the remainder of his immortal life, swears to protect the children in his charge, and swears an oath of fealty to Tsar Lunar, knowing that he may be called on at any time to defend either the illustrious MiM or the children of the world.'"

The spirit paused, glancing over the parchment at Fred. "Do you accept?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Jack nodded. "If you decline, though, you go back to being dead. No ghost option, either."

Fred thought for a minute, gaze drifting to the building that housed his family and friends. "And if I can get them to believe, they'll see me? I'll be able to talk to them?" Again Jack nodded. After another moment of contemplation, Fred mimicked the action. "Then yes, I accept."

Jack gave a small smile before rolling his eyes and dropping them back to the scroll, resuming his recital. He clearly did not like the pomp of it all. "'In addition to his appointment as the April Fool, the newly-born 'Harlequin' shall have conferred onto him by one Jackson Overland Frost; the Prince of Winter, Elemental Spirit of Snow, Shepherd of the North Wind, and a Guardian of Childhood; the Jester's Crown and will be named, from this day onwards, as the new Prince of Pranks.'" A whoosh of breath followed this, and Jack shoved the scroll back into his pocket without ceremony. He nested his staff under his arm and held his hands out in front of him, calling a thin circlet into existence with a surge of blue light. He then held it out almost lazily.

Fred took it cautiously. It looked rather unremarkable; just a hoop of dull metal. Jester's Crown indeed. More like the Jester's Headband.

"Well, put it on."

The redhead complied, shivering as a wave of magic washed over him.

"Cool." There was a note of humor in Jack's voice, but it was nonetheless sincere. "I've been wondering what it looked like for three centuries."

There was a crackling and Fred looked up to see a circle of ice hovering in front of him. A checkerboard face was on it and it took him a minute to realize it was his own reflection. The circlet had morphed, becoming a wooden half-mask that hid his upper face and a jester's hat adorned with bells. It was a somewhat ridiculous look, but Fred thought he worked it rather well. "Cool," he echoed, grinning widely for the first time since waking up.

The ice mirror vanished in an explosion of snow and the bright moon dimmed a bit, pulling up a thin curtain of wispy clouds. Fred glanced at it, then at Jack. The boy looked a little distracted now that the coronation was over, staring off to the north. "What…what do I do now?" Fred asked hesitantly.

"Protect people and make them laugh. Like you've always done." Jack held out a spindly hand, smiling when Fred shook it. "Good luck, Harlequin. If you ever need anything, just ask the wind to find me." He rose into the sky, pausing a few feet up. "Oh, and don't forget you _have_ to work on April Fool's Day."

With a roar of wind and a flurry of snow, Jack vanished into the night. Fred watched him go and left the garden, walking down the hill towards Ottery St. Catchpole, passing his tombstone as he went. Before it was completely out of sight, he cast a final longing gaze at the Burrow.

"Don't forget me."__

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_**A/N: You know the drill: leave a review telling me what you think. Pretty please. Hope you all found this a refreshing addition to the RotG/HP crossover-verse. Should I continue? Or leave this as it is, since it technically can stand alone?**_


	2. CHAPTER ONE

_**Official Hogwarts owls are en route to the following:**_ Rustyfox, Destiny-FaithAngel, DYquem, pococo, Solartiger, Four Leafed Fortune, anonymouskansan, Twilight Cardmistress, lurkerlaine, seldomselcouth, Bailey24, Eliphas, mls8720, Avampiress, Comet's Tail, of muffins and sprinkles, kaori and yoshi, Night of StarClan

_**Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Rise of the Guardians. **_

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Harlequin perched atop the arch at Hogsmeade station, idly juggling a pair of multicolored spheres, keeping a watchful eye on the distant pillar of smoke. A glance at the twilit sky told him the large scarlet train was running late. He hoped it had nothing to do with a certain winter sprite icing the tracks…again. Once or twice was funny, but this year, Harlequin had specifically asked that the Hogwarts Express be left alone. As the trickster prince, he could have demanded it, but Jack was his friend. And technically fell outside the boundaries of the typical mischief spirit. Besides, giving orders wasn't really the strongest weapon in his arsenal.

There was probably another reason for the delay.

"_Incarcerus."_ The voice was soft and dreamy, and Harlequin almost missed hearing it. Almost. As it was, he leapt out of the way of the spell. Mostly. His ankle got snared, dangling him from the arch. His bells jingled as the tentacles of his hat succumbed to gravity and again as a finger batted at them. "Good evening, Harlequin."

He grinned at the tall blond witch, twisting on his tether to look at her better. "Luna." Good old Luna; so far, she was the only person to see him, though she didn't strictly believe in him as the April Fool, or however the rules worked. When he'd asked Jack how that was possibly, the young Guardian had said some people were moon-touched and could see anything MiM created. Luna was one such person.

He'd met up with her a few years back when he was rifling through old Ollivander's shop, switching out the wands with look-alikes that would transform into baby chicks or squirting flowers or any number of similar trick gifts when waved. She'd caught him in the act, which had been a delightful surprise, even if it hadn't helped convince the others of his existence. "What brings you here?"

She smiled, flicking her wand so he could drop to the ground. "Ollivander is gravely ill, you see, and when Voldemort was looking for the Elder Wand, he killed a good number of wandmakers. I've discussed it with Neville and, well, he agreed that a class on wand lore would be beneficial to the community at large. I'm not nearly as knowledgeable as Ollivander, of course, but I do know enough to teach the basics." She stared off dreamily for a moment and Harlequin followed her gaze, smiling at the autumn sprites that flitted between the trees. When they were out of sight, she faced him again. "Have you a particular reason for being here tonight?"

His smile faltered a bit, his gaze swiveling to the ever-approaching smoke. "Same old, same old," he confessed, knowing Luna would understand. In the last decade or so, he'd learned that children were far more apt to notice his subtle presence, even if they couldn't see him outright. So every free chance he got, he spent around Hogwarts, particularly the various children from his family. He'd almost gotten Ginny to believe, back in her last year, and probably would have, had she been around just a bit longer, but it had been a long stretch since then. Up until a year ago, only Bill and Fleur's daughter had been there and she was impossible to get through to.

"I see," Luna said softly. "Well, then, I'll try to help as much as I can, but people seldom believe me about things they can't see. I hope you'll stop in for tea sometime?"

He nodded, moving to climb up a column as the train hissed to a stop, spilling its passengers onto the platform. He watched them from his perch, having no desire to get walked through, chuckling at the scared faces of the first year students. Luna shot him an amused look as she gathered them together and marched them off towards the lake, chatting happily about Nargles and Rackspurts and the April Fool. Harlequin grinned and shook his head, hopping down as the crowd thinned. That Luna was something else.

He followed the older students to the carriages, hopping unnoticed onto the back of the last one as it creaked its way to the castle. Every now and then, he tossed exploding coins over the carriages, sending down rains of feathers and confetti, smiling at the smiles they coaxed. He had a very good feeling about this year.

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_**A/N: Don't ask me why, but I imagine Luna having a substantial growth spurt after the events of Deathly Hallows. And totally being able to see the legends, regardless. Because she's just THAT awesome. Anywho, hope you enjoy the pointless fluff. On a related subject, I have been made aware of a glaring problem that I really should have foreseen. That would be that I am not much of a prankster. So, if anyone has any ideas on pranks Harlequin can play or powers he might possess, feel free to shoot them at me. Please review.**_


	3. CHAPTER TWO

_**Official Hogwarts owls are en route to the following:**_ Rustyfox, Destiny-FaithAngel, DYquem, pococo, Solartiger, Four Leafed Fortune, anonymouskansan, Twilight Cardmistress, lurkerlaine, seldomselcouth, Bailey24, Eliphas, mls8720, Avampiress, Comet's Tail, of muffins and sprinkles, kaori and yoshi, Night of StarClan, SeeingBeliever98, Chibi y Hina, Flynn Mond, Fk306, , Reading nerd, HawthornShadow, WereWolfPrincess1215, Hikari-Urufu-no-Yami, flanka, ELLYNARA3, Caboosd, Twilight Moon 21, Latias876, Fanghur, zoeshade, ForestEmerald, Faliara, angel de acuario, BloodRed Wolf15, Duvessa Lilian Snape, SeeSea17

_**Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Rise of the Guardians. If I did own something famous, I would totally be reading the fanfictions for them, though. Maybe someday.**_

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Harlequin sat at the long table, frowning at a young girl in mock lament and trying his best to ignore the fact that half of him was being sat through by a rather fat first year. "Rosie," he whined, knowing the girl could not hear him. Even if she could have, she looked too worried to notice anything beyond her plate. And that only held a fraction of her interest. "Rosie, Rosie, Rosie…Ravenclaw, really? The first Weasley in almost four centuries to not make Gryffindor. Too much of your mother in you, I suppose." He flicked a bit of pudding at a boy farther down the table, grinning when said victim flung some at the girl across from him. A miniature food fight broke out, spreading quickly. Within minutes, the entire Great Hall was filled with flying vegetables and chicken wings that were living up to their name. Some of the older students were using magic to assault their friends in other houses.

Only the staff table was not taking part, most of the teachers staring at the students in shock. Only Luna and old Hagrid looked unsurprised, the latter resisting the urge to scoop up some casserole. Luna locked eyes with Harlequin, raising an eyebrow. The spirit only shrugged, deflecting some mashed potatoes with a grin and a wave of his hand. The gloppy mess turned pink and splattered on a group of Slytherins, earning shrieks and laughter. Laughing himself, Harlequin added to the chaos, sending multicolored food whizzing around the room and tossing more of his exploding coins around the room, showering the students with little trinkets, reveling in the excitement. Rose's laughter warmed him most of all.

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Once the shock had worn off, the staff was quick to put an end to the impromptu madness, stopping the food fight and ushering the children out of the Great Hall and to their dormitories with sternness none of them actually felt. Young voices still filled the air, comparing their mystery gifts and ridding themselves of residual chuckles. When they split into two groups, Harlequin followed the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors up towards the towers, wanting to make sure his family got settled safely.

The two houses mingled slightly, though Rose walked fully with her cousins, her worried expression back. "Dad won't really disinherit me, will he? Because I didn't make Gryffindor."

The Potter-Weasley horde halted, making the rest of the students flow around them. Harlequin stopped too, frowning. Ron had said that? Still just as stupid as ever, wasn't he? The spirit made a note to thrash Ron soundly if he ever was able to lay hands on him again and wished he could have done something to comfort the girl. Luckily, her cousins were there to do it for him.

"My dad says Uncle Ron's a git," Freddy said. "No offense, Rosie, but your dad…he doesn't often think before he…well, before he does anything really. Be glad you got your mum's brains."

Rose smiled slightly and Harlequin whooped loudly, beaming at his namesake. "Georgie, you're raising him right." As the others gave more reassurances to Rose, he wandered off towards a nearby window, perching in it as the two groups split, heading to their respective towers. With a smile, the trickster spirit vanished, off to spread his mischief throughout the world while Hogwarts slept.

In the distance, a pipe sang a low, haunting melody, piercing through the darkness.

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_**A/N: First things first, I'm sorry this took so long. Life has been hectic lately and the muse has gone walkabout...frequently. Secondly, I'm sorry if this story is taking a while to get anywhere. That just tends to be my style; a few chapters that inch along and then, BAM! I suddenly get hit with inspiration and things start happening. I've already got some ideas brewing, so…no fear! I might even get some longer chapters soon.**_


	4. CHAPTER THREE

_**Official Hogwarts owls are en route to the following:**_ Rustyfox, Destiny-FaithAngel, DYquem, pococo, Solartiger, Four Leafed Fortune, anonymouskansan, Twilight Cardmistress, lurkerlaine, seldomselcouth, Bailey24, Eliphas, mls8720, Avampiress, Comet's Tail, of muffins and sprinkles, kaori and yoshi, Night of StarClan, SeeingBeliever98, Chibi y Hina, Flynn Mond, Fk306, , Reading nerd, HawthornShadow, WereWolfPrincess1215, Hikari-Urufu-no-Yami, flanka, ELLYNARA3, Caboosd, Twilight Moon 21, Latias876, Fanghur, zoeshade, ForestEmerald, Faliara, angel de acuario, BloodRed Wolf15, Duvessa Lilian Snape, SeeSea17, Wind19, Yuki101, StarDustWolf13, Maximus Potter, Beautiful dreaming warrior, Nghtmrduc

_**Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Rise of the Guardians. **_

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Genevieve Masters closed her eyes and pulled her covers up to her chin, but try as she may, she could not get to sleep. She was too excited. It was her first night in a magic castle. She really was a witch and she really was going to learn real magic, just like she used to pretend when she was little. It wasn't fairy princess status, but she was going to learn _magic_. Still keeping her eyes closed, trying to get to sleep, she smiled, wiggling in happiness. Her mommy and daddy were going to be so proud of her.

As she lay in the darkness, trying to coax sleep to her and at the same time hoping it never came, lest this all be a dream, the sound of music reached her ears. It was soft and a little scary, but not so much that the girl didn't open her eyes, looking for its source. There was a flash of movement outside the window and she pushed back her blankets, placing her small feet on the floor. In the other beds, girls shifted and murmured in their sleep, so Genevieve took quiet steps, pressing her face to the glass. What she saw made her smile.

A figure floated outside, smiling and playing an odd wooden flute. It reminded Genevieve of a clown, but not the scary kind in the movies. It was more like the ones at the Renaissance fair her mommy and daddy had taken her to earlier in the summer; the kind that juggled balls and wore motley and had the funny hats with bells. It seemed nice enough.

Softly, quietly, Genevieve pushed the window open, leaning out. "Hello, mister jester," she whispered, waving and smiling. The jester's own smile broadened somehow, though he never stopped playing his pipe. Without the window blocking it, the girl wondered how she had found the melody even slightly scary. It was beautiful.

The next thing she knew, Genevieve was out on the grounds, shivering in the night air. The music was gone as the jester landed next to her, still smiling. Suddenly, she felt afraid. The grin did not seem as kind as it had. "I'm sorry, but I'm not supposed to be out here," she squeaked, taking a few steps backwards, retreating from the ever-darkening smile and towards the safety of the castle.

Just then the jester lunged, grabbing her arm. They were gone before Genevieve could scream.


End file.
